KOTOR Short Fics
by Allronix
Summary: Ten short fics produced via shuffle meme (Take 10 songs, write a rough draft in the time the song plays). Both KOTOR 1 and 2, LSF Revan DSM Exile. Same continuity as Destiny's Pawn.
1. Chapter 1

_Track 1: "To the Moon and Back" - Savage Garden_

As stupid as Mandalore's Children could be, they had a point; the Force was not necessary to impose one's will and ideals on the galaxy. Battlefield after battlefield, wound after wound. At the end of the line, they were still pawns wreaking the death of billions. And the Jedi, for all their talk of being the protectors of Light and Order did nothing.

Never again.

She has always been a weapon; the Force's, the Jedi's, her Master's, the Republic's, the Sith's…The code of the Jedi promised peace. Peace is a lie. The Code of the Sith promised freedom. Freedom is also a lie.

She will give the allies and foes alike the things they want, but never in the way they wish. She couldn't drag the universe to Light, but she could make it scream in the Dark.

Break the Force. End the constant wars. Burn away weakness and leave what remained strong enough to destroy the threats that always lurked in the unknown. It would mean the end of her, the end of Malak, the end of all those who could hear and feel the Force as its need for blood turned them into its tools. An ideal outcome would leave the galaxy would be in the hands of men like Saul Karath, Force-deaf meritocrats with no need for mercy. They would take their proper place and keep the galaxy in order, not be left fighting the Jedi and Sith's wars for them.

If the Force were not possessed of its insatiable appetite for blood and suffering. It would be nice to remove the mask and the robes, to strip off the illusion and image of flawless leader and walk off into the mists, forgotten.

Sometimes, she thinks she can see that other life; a sister to care for, a brother to help defend the clan from threats. A daughter to guide and protect. In the mix, she can even sense a husband, someone who wants nothing from her but companionship. She can't see his face, but she knows what he feels like; a steady flame in cold winds, scarred but not broken.

The Force mocks her. She knows these people – her family - exist but doesn't know who they are. All the more reason to nurse her anger and keep making the universe shriek so that it can just be over with.

It is weakness, she knows. Still, it would be…_nice._


	2. Chapter 2

_"Here Comes the Flood" (Original version) – Peter Gabriel_

The heart beat. The lungs breathed. Dozens of other automatic functions carried on like normal. Physically alive and stable, but no sentience or consciousness. At best, Bastila could enter a state of deep meditation and travel through the bond.

Inside what was left of Revan's mind, there was little but fragments; cold black nothingness like a vast sea, memory without context like the tops of mountains becoming islands amid a global flood. At first, she thought she could find Revan in this expanse, but no…the Dark Lord was dead. The islands, broken memories and broken emotions, were all that remained.

As Bastila walked across the surface of the shattered mind, she carried the spark. It was a product of the bond, something not fully hers or Revan's but a strange amalgamation of both. It started as little more than a small glimmer and had been growing through the weeks that Revan floated in the kolto tank and Bastila tried to assemble what was left. Now, it was almost the size and weight of a large equipment pack.

It was increasingly obvious that the Masters never expected her to succeed in bringing Revan back alive. Even now, they only wanted their comatose prisoner for whatever useful knowledge could be gleaned. The problem was that Bastila could find little on the islands that counted as useful. It would be so easy and so comforting to believe the official version; Revan was a model Jedi who defied the Council, was corrupted by lack of guidance and by the War, fell to the Dark Side and became heir to Exar Kun's legacy…

Instead, she saw a spiral that started far before the Mandalorian Wars. Bastila got the unsettling impression that Revan had been shaped into a tool and weapon by the Order itself; a prodigy the Masters invested in with their desires…desires for greatness, desired to see themselves mirrored in her attack stances and words, desires for a model Jedi, desire for a weapon to be pointed at the Order's enemies, and even darker desires that Bastila was disturbed to find as she searched. Revan may not have been an aberration that could be destroyed and discarded, but a symptom of corruption the Order denied was inside them all along.

No, these were the tainted perceptions of a fallen paragon. That had to be the case. The Order depended on her. She couldn't allow herself doubt.

Forced to rest, Bastila put the spark down on what looked like a barren islet in the middle of the black sea. It flickered and shifted, changing. It finally solidified into the image of a small girl; a child barely old enough to walk. She looked almost identical to Revan, but there was something about the posture, the eyes…

With a panic, Bastila's eyes flew open, breaking her trance.

And that's when she first sensed it; the beginnings of actual life, consciousness…and as much as she both feared and wanted it to be Dark Lord regaining consciousness, that wasn't the case. That life – part hers and part Revan's - was _new_.


	3. Chapter 3

_"Go Insane" – Lindsey Buckingham_

The only thing Carth trusted one hundred percent was his gut instinct. The one time he didn't listen to it…well, that was when it screamed at him to pull a blaster on Saul three days before that spawn of a Hutt burned the skies off Telos.

It screamed at him when it came to her. The problem is that it screamed several contradictory things at once. Protect her… she's dangerous…trust her…she's a threat….

She was a linguist and protocol aide tied to Bastila's entourage, at least on paper. Minimal combat training, and no combat experience. Nothing of note other than a list of Outer Rim language proficiencies that even most protocol droids didn't use. On paper, she shouldn't be able to handle a vibroblade and cut down three Vulkars in seconds. If she was telling the truth, however, she couldn't confirm or deny it. Plasma shock, neural damage, no memory…The file was all he really "knew" about her, and Carth was convinced said file was a complete fabrication.

"Follow my lead," he told her. She was the civilian; he was the veteran. Should have been simple enough.

It was increasingly obvious, however, that he was following her lead. He was losing control and it scared the hell out of him, even if it got them closer to Bastila in two days teamed up with her than he managed in five on his own.

There was one thing his gut told him about her that didn't change; she was even more terrified than he was. If they were going to have a chance in nine hells of surviving this, he had better keep his mouth shut, ignore the screams, and focus on the mission. He just hoped she didn't ask a lot of questions along the way…


	4. Chapter 4

_"Self Machine" – I Blame Coco (La Roux Remix)_

_T3 = Newly Created. T3-M4 = In need of directive._

Nall did not keep him for long. His true Master came in and took possession. Maybe it would be a better assessment to say he took possession of her. Adult female human, fresh from a memory wipe. Crew of other organics; adult male human, secondary adult female human, juvenile female Twi'lek, juvenile male Wookiee. All of them…glitched…in some fashion. T3-M4 lacked the diagnostic tools to properly assess the organics, but he was certain that organics were of inferior build and coding. They needed frequent rest, refueling. They were maladroit with equations, frequently illogical, and they could not be easily upgraded or repaired. For all their frailties and failures, they gave T3-M4 proper maintenance and allowed him to absorb input and make observations. They also entered dangerous situations with distressing frequency, and it simply would not do if any of them were terminated in the process. After all, he was equipped with a shield generator, dual blaster mounts and secondary weapon slots concealed in his chassis.

Ah , yes. They did not have to give him an explicit directive. T3-M4 was well-crafted enough to figure it out on his own.

_T3-M4 + directive = preventing organics from self-destruct. _


	5. Chapter 5

_"Friend or Foe" – t.A.T.u_

Revan had always been an enigma, more image than person. Yet, Saul always thought she and his former lieutenant would have made a fine team. Revan was one for unconventional tactics, and Carth could certainly do end runs around the regulations if he felt it necessary. Revan never liked sycophants, and Carth was always good at challenging command decisions he disagreed with, no matter who was giving the order.

Saul wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused when he found them together. And, _of course_, lord and lieutenant could build an efficient and deadly strike team from the flotsam on that smuggling ship. He wasn't sure how they managed to get a Wookiee and a Mandalorian in the mix. And there had to be some interesting explanation for the old man and the mouthy Twi'lek girl. Too bad the time when he could open a bottle of brandy and pull the story out of Carth over a glass or three long passed.

It was difficult enough trying to misdirect them during interrogation. There was little surprise to Bastila's cool Jedi arrogance; she was Malak's problem, not his. Carth's homicidal rage, defiance, and rock-solid Republic loyalty were also expected. Hurtful, but expected. He knew the man better than the man knew himself. The interrogation cage, however, was the first time he had seen Lady Revan with her face uncovered. If it weren't for the voice, he wouldn't believe it was her at all.

The true surprise was seeing the way his former lord and lieutenant looked at one another. He never knew Revan to take an interest in anyone. Saul remembered a prince that demanded the honor of being her consort in exchange for an alliance. She sent him back with his eyes put out and his tongue severed. Saul wondered briefly if someone in SIS talked Carth into "taking one for the Republic," but just as quickly dismissed the notion. The man wasn't capable of it. No,_ bizarre_ as this was, it was genuine. Despite the highly inappropriate circumstances, a small part of Saul was almost happy for them.

Saul had betrayed them both; Carth with the bombing of Telos, and Lady Revan by following Malak's order to fire on the _Prophesy_ in the middle of a battle with the Republic. It was a shame he had to do all this nasty business to them, but it was for the cause of bringing order to a chaotic galaxy. If Lady Revan were in her right mind, she would understand. And maybe it would finally get Carth - that stubborn fool - to understand that the Republic wasn't what he thought.

And so, with his dying words, Saul told the truth.


	6. Chapter 6

_"Fight to the Finish" – Myles Hunter (Galaxy Rangers OST)_

"Twenty ships launching from the planet. Transponder codes are all over the map. Weapons readouts…they're insane." The com officer looked up. "Admiral Dodonna, they're hailing us. The transmission is in _Mando'a_."

"Just what we need. Damn it. Put them through."

The voice over the com was clear, gruff Basic. _"This is Mandalore. The Republic were once our worthy foes. Today, you can have the honor of fighting with us as allies. We'll clear a path to the Star Forge. I suggest you try to keep up."_

"It's a sunny day in the third hell," grumbled the XO. "No way we can trust the Mandos –"

Vandar, however, recognized the voice. Not even Jedi training could keep the smile off his face. "We can, Commander. Send a transmission to Mandalore. Congratulate him on his coronation and tell him we accept his challenge."


	7. Chapter 7

_"No Easy Way Out" – Robert Tepper _

Someone else's tool and weapon. Story of her life – both of them.

Bastila had been right. Malak wanted to finish her off to shore up his unstable claim to an empire. The Republic wanted the Forge destroyed. The Jedi wanted an assassin and plausible deniability.

The closer she came to the heart of the Forge, the closer she got to Malak, the sooner she would lose. They were already splintering apart, and she knew she couldn't stop it. There wasn't going to be a future, no matter how much she wanted it.

Zaalbar had his Life Debt, and desire to honor what he could of his people. He would go back to them. Back to his father and his village. Maybe take Mission with him.

Canderous, seeking a worthy cause to fight for, would follow either way. The droids would also stick by, as they only desired a Master. She could give them that, but it seemed that Canderous would be the first to leave, sewing his own banner so that what was left of his people could march under him. Would he remember them all? Would they have to become enemies again?

Maybe she should have taken the offer Bastila made at the temple top. Ruling the galaxy wasn't anything she wanted, but when the alternative was to be a glorified smart bomb wielded by people who would try to play it off as some act of great mercy and breathe a sigh of relief if she didn't survive...

Maybe she didn't have to be a Dark Lady, but an enlightened despot, bringing order and balance…By sheer will, she could keep them close. She could see into their hearts and give them what they wanted.

No. It would never have worked. Juhani and Jolee would never accept it. Jolee wanted redemption, a chance to finally be the Jedi he failed to be when facing Nayama and in the chaos after Exar Kun's War, when the Jedi became ossified and dogmatic in ways his voice could have prevented.

Juhani desperately wanted companionship. She wanted to see in her the paragon she had been before the fall, to pay her back for a life saved from the slave pen and saved again in a grove. In return, Kairi-Revan wanted a sister, and Juhani was so very willing to fill that role.

Would Mission go along with the idea? Maybe. Mission was the first to forgive her, maybe because she suffered the least from her past actions. Still, Mission was like Jolee in loving her freedom. Despite her overt protests, she wanted parents who would love her and watch out for her, something her brother had been incapable of being. Children grow up and leave, and that would be a problem. If she were fortunate, Mission would show up for Life Day, or send a hologreeting. But she would eventually have a life apart all over again.

Carth? He desired to be a husband, father, protector...to have a family gathered around and the comfort of a home. Part of her could easily see it, maybe put him in command of warships. Or give him an empty sounding title and a life where he could be quietly behind the throne as the only adviser that could be completely trusted. He also had…other potential that Uthar almost made use of that would be even more useful if it remained a secret.

No, he would never turn against the Republic, and for good reason. Flawed and confused as it was, the Republic was still the best chance they all had. It was the only chance her family had at a happy life, even if she could not be part of it. Peace was a lie, and there was only passion...but there was such a thing as doing what was right for those she loved, even if it meant she would lose them all.


	8. Chapter 8

_"Intergalactic Space Crusaders" - Star One_

Cian Li-Bek had once been a Jedi. Once recited the Code just like everyone else, worn the robes. Yet, there was something missing. He felt stifled, held back, restless. Much of the time, he could silence those feelings. The pull of the Dark Side, maybe. He would like to say he followed Revan's call to war to save the innocents of the Outer Rim from Mandalorian predation, but the truth was that he knew what he was looking for couldn't be found in the isolated spires of Jedi temples.

Despite the horrors of the battlefield, it was still the closest he had to satisfaction. Amid the jungles and high in the stars, he had _purpose_. Duxn, The Gate, Malachor; all of them hard fought and hard won, leaving a trail of dead soldiers and a bigger pile of dead bucket-heads. Yet even then, he chafed under her command. He knew he was being used, Revan's point man on feints and distractions, forcing the bucket-heads to turn their backs long enough for her and Malak to sweep in to take the victory and the credit.

She showed him that they were also fighting a war on two fronts; the Mandalorians being commanded from what was likely the remnants of Kun's Sith. By that time, however, he had enough of Revan's manipulations and had fallen on his saber enough times see it for just another trap. Malachor was his "reward."

He had built his life again…as much as it was possible for a Jedi now Force-deaf. He lied by omission. Sure, he fought in the Mandalorian Wars. No, he wasn't going to admit he was a Jedi General. He went far out past what pretended to be "civilized" space, taking whatever jobs he could; mostly mercenary and bounty hunting work. Someone in the galaxy always wanted a hired blaster to kick someone else in the teeth, and Cian really didn't care who wanted who dead or why so long as they paid on time. Other jobs were dull but steady; Hutt's bodyguard for a few months on Sleheyron, repairing droids on a scout freighter, cleaning the floors of a cantina when he truly got desperate…

When he got paid, he would spend it on drink. During the War, it was a nice way to dull the unpleasant aspects of Force Sensitivity in a war zone. Now, he just drank to forget the gaping hole where the Force and purpose used to be.

He was on the dregs of his last paycheck, swallowing some rotgut in the low end of Rishi's Maze when some fellow named Tremel with a uniform that read "Telos Security Forces" sat on the stool next to him. Cian was annoyed by the young man's chattiness, but he did buy the next couple rounds.

"Aye. Well, if you're a mercenary, then TSF needs a few of those."

"Telos? Revan burned that world, right?"

Tremel's speech was slurred, but still comprehensible. "Malak did, mate. Revan wasn't happy with 'im over it. Probably why he ended up shooting Revan's flagship. Lucky shot. Jedi end up winning their war. Telos gets funds for a rebuild, but TSF doesn't have the manpower to hold a city block, much less a sector. They'll take any warm body who can hold a blaster and not cause them a headache."

"I'll consider it," Cian said. It was a lie. Even drinking away his last few credits, he wasn't desperate enough to go back to Republic space.

"If you're interested, approach the_ Harbinger_. Republic Hammerhead. She's passing through the sector to get a shipment of exonium. Telos needs fuel as much as they need the mercenaries. Just show your ID to the supply officer and tell them I sent you."

"I'll consider it." This time, he couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Don't think about it too long. _Harbinger's_ leaving tomorrow afternoon. Who knows how long Telos is going to be the Republic's pet project? All that goodwill Admiral Onasi had after the Star Forge went down the garbage hatch once word got out that Revan survived."

His hand curled around the plastic tumbler enough to hear it crack. Any tighter and it would have shattered. "What do you mean that _schutta_ survived?"

"Mate, you been out of the loop on a lot, haven't you? Apparently, Jedi Order got their hands on Revan, and convinced the ex-Dark Lord to see the 'Light' again. Took out Malak, burned the Forge, won the Republic's war for us again. Even got a Cross of Glory standing next to the Admiral from what I hear. Oh, the Order tried to keep it all hush, but I guess someone wasn't happy and now that the skifflin's out of the sack…"

"I'll be there."

"What?"

"Your ship. I'll be there." He dropped his voice. "Now, scratch gravel and don't _ever_ mention that name again."

Tremel was a chatty drunk, but not a stupid drunk. He threw a few credits on the counter and wisely high-tailed it.

How _dare_ they! He crawled back to them _willingly_. He stood in front of them, stared them down, challenged them to face their own hypocrisy. All he got for his trouble was a sentence of Exile as the Masters buried themselves in their own lies. She came back with a fleet and an army of conquest and ended up being welcomed back as a damn hero?!

Cian Li-Bek, General turned Exile didn't care. All that mattered was that Revan had to die, and the Order would burn with her.


	9. Chapter 9

"Double Life" – Styx

That _dar'jetii_ witch (he was certain the Exile was on her leash) blackmailed him into this mission by dangling the prospect of finding out what happened to Revan in front of his nose. Like a _di'kut_, he charged in blindly. Seeing HK-47 in a pile of pieces in a dark corner of the cargo hold didn't set his mind at ease.

He was nowhere near a proficient slicer, even though he knew a few loopholes in the ship's computers Davik never managed to fix and had picked up a few tricks and tools when he traveled with Mission. He wondered if she kept herself out of trouble. Wondered if she and Zaalbar were still watching each other's sixes. At least he kept Juhani out of view, putting her in charge while he pursued this lead. They'd argued about this, and she reluctantly agreed to stay behind. Maybe that was a mistake, but the clan needed commanding and Canderous had a suspicion that his battle-sister wouldn't fare as well against Kreia's manipulation.

He already decided he hated the slimy-looking_ chakaar_ sitting in Carth's chair. Already knew better than to approach the Echani; frosty manners to go with her snow-colored hair. The Zabrak tech gave him nothing but angry stares; very much like the ones his battle-sister had given him at one time. But Bao-Dur didn't like the witch, either. Maybe Canderous could add that card to his side deck.

So far, he had one good lead. Canderous hoped T3-M4 hadn't had a memory wipe, or he was completely out of luck.


	10. Chapter 10

_"Ashes" – Celene Dion (Deadpool 2 OST)_

Mical's head pounded, and he already vomited up what little he had in his stomach. His hero, his would-have-been Jedi Master…the Exile who gave him a taste of his dream, ripped him apart in the process, and left him for dead in the Enclave ruins. He was abandoned once more, alone. Instead of numbing wafers to dull his Force connection and a one-way ticket to Telos, he was left amid the Enclave's ruins with a feeling like he was ripped open. He was awake to the Force again, for all the good it did. Cian and Kreia used it as a weapon against him, and Mical couldn't stop wondering if this tragedy was all his fault.

The most he could do was to find a few plasma mines, discarded by one of the unfortunate pillagers…No, salvagers. This was just another ruin of war, no longer his home. No longer…

Zez Kai-Ell's eyes were closed, like he knew the end had been coming. Kavar's cold hand was clutching his lightsaber, perhaps a futile attempt at fighting back. Vrook's stone face and empty eyes were fixed in eternal disappointment. How…fitting.

He built the pyre, laid the remains of the last Masters upon them, lit off the charges.

He remembered something Admiral Onasi told him, that after the bombing of Telos, TSF threw the dead into mass graves and set off plasma charges because of the threat from disease. Too many bodies and too few hands for proper burials.

He now had an idea of what Telos must have been like for his admiral. More than anything, he wished for him to be here. Not as much to warn him about The Exile or to beg forgiveness for his failure, but to…talk, to grieve, to not be _alone_. Absently, Mical clipped Kavar's lightsaber to his belt. Maybe he would hunt down his mentor and would-have-been Master and use it to kill him. It would be…fitting.

Tears streamed down his face, only part due to the pyre's smoke.

_There is no Death, there is the Force._


End file.
